Abstract
by Avaelin
Summary: Abstract; a type of art and the perfect word to describe Don Eppes's new love life. When Mira and a child artist go missing during a children's gala, Don must race to find both of them before their usefulness wears thin.
1. Default Chapter

Don Eppes sat at his desk quietly, his mind caught in his own little world. His partner, Agent Terry Lake, watched him from her desk with interest. Her mind flashed back to their earlier conversation about his social and personal life.

"I think anyone who ran into you on the street would assume you were taken," she had remarked. Don did nothing but scoff at her observation.

"Whatever, Terry. If you really want to know, I am taken," he had replied. David Sinclair, their other team member, had walked in as he said that. David's attention was captured quickly.

"You've got a girlfriend?" he asked. Don shrugged.

"We've never referred to each other as such, but I guess you could say that." Terry looked at him blankly.

"How could you date someone and not know if they were your significant other?" she asked. Don pinched the bridge of his nose. It was his common sign of frustration.

"I don't know, we never talked about it like that," he said with a slight edge forming on his voice. Terry gave David a warning look and dropped the subject. After that, Don had retreated to his desk, lost in a long train of thought.

Terry got up from her desk and sat on the edge of Don's desk. Don looked up at her with curiosity. "What is it Terry?" he asked. Terry folded her arms across her chest.

"You know how the director is holding a party tomorrow night to celebrate his birthday?" she asked. Don nodded, not understanding what this information had to do with him now. Terry shrugged. "Well, seeing as many of us are expected to show up, I though you could bring _her_ with you." Terry's emphasis on _her_ told Don that she meant his unofficial girlfriend. Don sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"I'll think about it," replied Don with a little more confidence than he truly had. Terry gave him a small smile.

"That's all I ask. Besides, I want to be able to tell her some of your bad habits before she fully commits." With that, Terry went back to her desk and began reading some files that she had left untouched. Don sighed and got up. He had told his father that he was going to be home in time for dinner.

When he arrived at his father's house, Don noticed that there was another car parked in front of the house. He recognized it but didn't expect to find it there. He entered his childhood home and saw his family sitting in the living room. With them was Mira, his girlfriend.

"Hey, Donny! You made it home!" Alan, his father, exclaimed. Charlie, his younger brother, looked up from his laptop and gave a grin. Mira stood up and crossed the room. She paused in front of him and kissed his cheek lovingly.

"Do you want something to drink?" she asked quietly in his ear. Don looked at her.

"You don't have to get anything, I'll do it," he protested. Mira shook her head slowly.

"I was getting up anyway, hon. What'll you have?" she repeated. Don shrugged.

"A beer would be great," he replied. Mira gave him another kiss.

"Water it is!" she said cheerfully while escaping to the kitchen. She hated his beer-drinking inclination; it made his breath smell rather pungent. Don sat down in a chair and loosened his tie.

"We won't make it to dinner tomorrow night," he announced to his brother and father. Mira re-entered the room carrying two water bottles. She handed one to Don and sat opposite of him. She placed her elbow on the arm of the chair and touched her chin faintly with her fingers. She looked at Don admiringly, a small smile playing on her rosy lips. Don returned her gaze with an equally charmed look. Alan and Charlie glanced back and forth at the two lovers, an uncomfortable silence falling for a brief moment.

"Why won't you make it to dinner, Don?" Charlie asked. Don snapped out of his reverie and looked at Charlie.

"The director is having a birthday celebration and I intended on going," he replied, throwing a pointed glance towards Mira. She knew what he meant and tilted her head in her thoughtful manner.

"Formal or casual?" she asked. Don shrugged.

"Semi-formal, I suppose." Mira smiled reassuringly when she noticed his anxious gaze.

"I'll be ready by five," she said. Don relaxed.

"I'll pick you up then." The quartet sat for a few more moments in a tranquil silence then Alan stood.

"Well, I think it's time to get dinner on the table, Charlie. Let's go," he said pointedly, gesturing towards the kitchen. Charlie assented and stood.

"Do you need any help?" Mira asked, preparing to stand. Alan waved her down.

"No, no, no. You two stay here and relax, we'll take care of everything," he said firmly. Mira smiled.

"Okay, if you say so," she said, leaning back into the couch. Alan smiled briefly then entered the kitchen. Don continued to look at Mira steadily as she stood up anyway and sat on the arm of Don's chair. Don placed his hand on her knee and squeezed it gently.

"You look stressed," she said plainly, her hand stroking his hair. Don sighed. Being stressed was the least of his problems; he could handle stress. He could handle chaos, no sleep, and multitudes of other dilemmas, but he simply couldn't handle this tiny conflict of opinions. He stared absentmindedly out the window.

"It's that party," he said blankly. Mira looked down at him with surprise.

"That's what's bothering you?" she asked. Don shook his head. "Really, hon, I'd think you'd waste your time worrying over something a little less trivial."

"I know," he replied with exasperation. "And I am. It's not the party itself that is bothering me; it's how I was introduced to the idea." Mira stood up and crouched in front of his, taking his hands into hers.

"Explain that to me." Don looked at her. She had done her hair differently that day; instead of some form of curls, either natural or curler induced, her hair was straight. Her thick-rimmed glasses held most of it out of her face, unveiling her jade green eyes. Sometimes Don found it hard to believe she was nearly pure Italian. He had never seen an Italian native with chestnut brown hair and sparkling green eyes. She apparently got out of class early enough to change out of her typical outfit, merely because she was wearing a cotton, off-the-shoulder, ¾ sleeved shirt that was a calming shade of blue and a pair of tan, cargo pants.

"It was my partner, Terry, who suggested that I go after we had talked about my marital status. She also said to bring you along so everyone could meet you," he explained. Mira looked at him with a confused air.

"That's what's bothering you?" Don shook his head slightly.

"Hardly, Mira. Remember when we first met, you wanted to take things at a slower pace? When Terry asked me if I had a girlfriend, I couldn't tell them because I didn't know whether you wanted to be referred to as my girlfriend yet. So if I took you to this party, I don't know how to introduce you," he replied. Mira gave a small smile. She grasped his hands and forced him up. She gently led him onto the front porch and paused after she closed the door quietly behind them.

"Listen, Don. Don't worry about how to introduce me; I'll do it myself. Just keep your thoughts focused on things other than your director's birthday party," she said frankly. Don nodded, still not sure why he was outside.

"Why are we out here?" he asked her. Mira shrugged.

"Simple, it was getting too serious inside and the evening air is rather refreshing." Don smiled. "You know what'd be horrible?" she asked suddenly.

"What?" he asked her in return. Mira nodded in the direction of an oncoming car.

"If that slowing car was Larry coming to crash an intimate dinner," she replied. Sure enough, the car parked on the curb and Larry Fleinhardt appeared, walking briskly to the front door.


	2. Physics and Italian Food

"I'll go warn Charlie," Don said quietly in her ear. "Don't let him in yet." Mira nodded faintly. Don slipped inside as Larry approached the porch.

Once inside, Don walked into the kitchen where Charlie was stirring the spaghetti sauce. Alan was keeping an eye on the boiling water.

"Hey, Donny, dinner will be ready in ten minutes or so," Alan said. Charlie glanced up from the sauce.

"Thanks, Dad, but I'm only here to tell Charlie that a certain physics professor is at the door," Don said. Charlie cringed slightly. "I'd get out there before Larry bores Mira to death." Charlie sighed and offered him the ladle. Don took it and tasted the sauce. He made a face of general disgust.

"Dad, this is really bland!" he exclaimed. Alan sighed.

"That's not my fault. I told Charlie to add some spices to it," he replied. Don looked out the window and saw Charlie touch Mira on the arm. Mira looked at him with gratitude and retreated inside.

Mira came into the kitchen and smiled. "I take it we are having spaghetti tonight?" she asked. Alan gave a polite smile.

"Maybe, if the sauce ever gets help." Mira meandered towards Don's charge and took a taste. Instead of making a taste, she looked at Alan questioningly.

"May I?" she asked. He raised his hands in defeat.

"Leave me to the boiling water and noodles." Mira's eyes ran over the variety of produce that lay out on the counter. When she spotted what she needed, she took a knife and cutting board from the sink. She attacked some garlic and red peppers, adding them to the sauce in quick succession. After asking Alan where he kept his spices, Mira added various amounts of oregano, bay leaves, and onion flakes. After stirring the concoction for a few minutes, she offered a small teaspoon of the sauce to Don.

"What do you think? Too strong?" she asked. Don shook his head vigorously.

"Perfect!" At that precise moment, Charlie and Larry entered the house. Larry was talking practically to himself as he followed Charlie into the kitchen.

"Think we have food for one more?" he asked blandly. Mira glanced up from the sauce at Larry. Larry, noticing that the woman at the stove wasn't Amita or Terry, questioned Charlie.

"I thought you and Amita were going to try a relationship at some point," Larry said. Charlie blushed furiously at the suggestion that he and Mira were in some kind of relationship. Don looked at Mira who seemed not to notice at all.

"We still are," Charlie said defensively. "Mira is with Don!" Larry looked over at Don, who was getting out place settings.

"Charlie, do you think you could keep an eye on this for me while I help Don?" Mira asked calmly, still ignoring Larry's presence. Charlie gladly consented and took the ladle. Mira crossed the slightly crowded kitchen to Don and took some of the plates from his stack.

"You know, Charles, I'm still waiting for that data analysis," Larry started. "Also, I was hoping you could give me a hand in preparing my lectures." Mira started to head out of the kitchen, but paused when Larry didn't move from in front of the door. She waited a few more seconds while Larry continued to list the things he need Charlie to help him with before confronting him.

"Excuse me, Dr. Fleinhardt," Mira said coolly. "I'm sure that whatever you need Charlie for is really important, but right now, this kitchen has one too many bodies inside of it. Unless you want to spend the rest of the evening in everyone's way, I suggest you stop talking and move." Everyone stood in silence for a moment before Larry took her advice and moved from the doorway. Mira make no recognition of his movement and exited the kitchen calmly, plates in hand. Don followed her with a slight grin.

"I think you've scarred his dignity, Mira," he said quietly with a smile. Mira shrugged indifferently.

"He earned it, if you ask me," she replied as she took some of the cups from him and set them around the table in an orderly fashion. Don chuckled quietly as he went back into the kitchen for the food. Mira remained in the dining area looking at some of the pictures that decorated the walls around her.

She could easily pick out Don and Charlie individually. More often than not, the two were together, which proved how much they enjoyed each other's company. Mira spied a photograph of their mother, she assumed, near the china cabinet. Almost absentmindedly, Mira observed the picture as she would a piece of art in a museum; the lighting was perfect, highlighting all her remarkable features. The camera angle was magnificent; her head tilted up towards the photographer almost defiantly. One thing she noticed was the unmistakable kindness that shone in her eyes. It reminded Mira of her father. She couldn't shake the eerie feeling that the portrait was taken by her father or someone with parallel propensities as her father. The feel of the photograph was all too similar. Alan and Don interrupted her train of thought as they entered the room with the food.

"I hope you won't think of me as cheap, Mira," Alan said as he set down the basket of garlic bread.

"Why would I do that?" she asked with surprise as she took the saucepan from Don.

"The garlic bread is store-bought," he replied sheepishly. Mira giggled.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "I cheat all the time. In fact, I didn't grow up eating Italian foods. My childhood diet was that of any other child; it consisted mostly of McDonalds and the occasional liver and onions." Don re-entered the room with the pasta dish while Charlie and Larry followed quickly. After setting the dish down, Don pulled out a chair for Mira, gesturing for her to sit. Mira laughed brightly.

"Thanks, hon." Larry and Charlie sat down opposite of her while Don planted himself next to her. Alan remained standing and dished out the food. Don and Mira engaged themselves in a curiously animated conversation about the importance of sports in the world while Charlie struggled to restrain himself from strangling Larry. Alan watched both his sons with an amused expression.

"Mira, you are absolutely insane! How can you say that sports have no use today?" Don asked. Mira turned her attention to her food refusing to answer his question.

"Charles, I demand to know why I am taking second in your priority list! I have been asking you about these equations for months and you've been focusing your attention on things that have only just come up in the past two minutes!" Larry said in his shrill voice. Charlie sighed tiredly and looked to his father for help. Alan shook his head calmly refusing to bail his youngest son out of trouble this time. Mira looked at him with pity and decided to save him herself.

"So Charlie, did you get an invitation to this birthday party?" she asked suddenly, cutting both Don and Larry off. Charlie looked at her gratefully.

"Actually, I did. I got it in the mail yesterday afternoon," he replied. Mira smiled and looked at Don.

"Then someone better not forget to pick you up before coming to get me," she said pointedly. Don shrugged.

"If I did, he'd just continually call my cell phone until I remembered." After twenty more minutes of cheerful conversation, Alan got up and began to collect plates. Once again, Mira was inclined to assist, but was gently refused.

"You have done your share this evening, Mira. Let my sons clean the table off," he said as he took her plate. Don and Charlie sighed as they began to remove the food from the table. Mira watched them quietly once again ignoring Larry.

"So, Mira, isn't it? What do you do for a living?" Larry asked. Mira glanced at him.

"I'm the Art History professor at UCLA. I also teach Italian and Italian History at CalSci." Larry stared at her. Mira merely blinked calmly as the men re-entered the room. Mira checked her watch quickly as Don sat down next to her again. "Hey, I'm going to get going. I've got some assignments to grade," she said suddenly, getting up from the table. Don watched her with curiosity. He followed her out the door, knowing that everyone was watching them intently. When they were outside, Mira continued to walk towards her 2005 Ford Mustang Convertible, her hands fishing through her small handbag for her keys.

"Mira, what's up?" he asked when they reached her car. Mira stopped and looked at him, her eyes filled with surprise.

"Nothing actually. I just remembered that I had some papers I needed to grade and I wanted to get them done quickly, that's all," she replied innocently. She removed her glasses from her head and stuck them in her purse. She then withdrew a pair of sunglasses and put them on. She continued to look at him idly. Don sighed and decided to take her word for it.

"If you say so, kiddo," he replied, slipping a hand about her waist and gently pulling her towards him.

"Coming over tonight?" she asked in a bare murmur. Don shrugged as he leaned in to kiss her. Mira met him halfway and kissed him softly. Every time they kissed, Don couldn't help but be blown away by her method of attack. "I'll leave the door unlocked until nine," she whispered as she broke away slowly. Don smiled.

"See you then," he said softly as he backed away from the car. He was surprised when she opened the top and handed him a small plastic bag of trash.

"I don't mind you driving the car, Don. I do mind if you leave your trash in it," she said as he took the bag. Mira paused for another moment, just long enough for her to tie back her illustrious chestnut cascade of hair. Don had retreated to the front door and watched her protectively; ready to jump to her aid if anything went wrong on the lifeless residential road. Mira looked at him briefly as she started the car and shook her head in shame. Sometimes she had to wonder if he ever relaxed.

When she was completely out of sight, Don went back inside and put the trash in the garbage can. He grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator and went outside to the back porch where his father had retreated to as well. He sighed as he sat down, his anticipation of tomorrow night's events returning all too quickly for his enjoyment.


	3. Mood Swings and Parties

The two men sat in silence for a while until Alan decided to talk about Mira. "You know, when you told me you were dating Mira, I imagined her to be a little more, well, stuck up," he stated. Don gave him a small smile.

"You would think, huh?" Alan chuckled. "She's different from the rest of them, you know. She's always surprising you one way or another."

They lapsed into silence once again, the faint sound of Larry and Charlie bickering blending in with the quiet sounds of late May. Time slowly ticked by, the calm of the evening blurring their sense of time. Soon it was 8:12, a startling discovery made by Don as he glanced at his father's watch. Considering evening traffic, and the fact that she lived in Los Feliz, Don knew he had to leave now in order to make his nine o'clock deadline. Leaping out of his comfortable chair, Don said goodnight to his father and told him to pass it on to the mathematician who pretended to be his devoted brother.

Dashing to his dark SUV, Don made haste towards Mira's luscious estate. Normally, he would take his time getting to the door. Some of the most beautiful gardens in the world surrounded Mira's home. There was a little bit of everything growing here and there. He noticed before that all sorts of roses dominated the designated area. Miniature weeping willows dusted the area, while looming adults brushed the edges of the garden. There were two ornate fountains located about twenty feet from the edge of the walkway that led to the door which spout sparkling water that shimmered in the spotlights that were set to illuminate them.

Tonight, however, was different. He had about two minutes to enter the house before she locked the door. He knew never to count on her forgetting. She had the memory of an elephant. She was also always unnaturally punctual. He parked the car quickly and locked it as he jogged up the walkway and towards the large ornamental doors. The lights in the magnificent foyer were still lit, which gave him hope. He burst through the door just as Mira was coming down the stairs, her face crestfallen.

"Am I too late?" he asked, his breath quickly returning to him. Mira's face lit up playfully. She relaxed against the wrought-iron railing, and smiled.

"You, late? Never!" she mocked. Don threw his keys onto the wooden table that occupied the center of the room and climbed the staircase until her reached her position. He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him, kissing her softly. She melted immediately and gasped quietly for air as their kiss passionately grew. "You had beer," she whispered between kisses as they slowly moved up towards her bedroom.

Hours later, Don lay awake, surrounded by the warm glow of morning. He was sitting up slightly; Mira nestled close to him, her secondary source of warmth. She was still asleep while Don stroked her hair gently. She apparently had showered when she got home last night; her hair was softly curled, a direct product of moisture attacking her hair. Fourteen more hours until they were to be at the party; fourteen more hours until he finds out whether or not Mira is comfortable with their relationship. Despite last night's suggestive activities, Don still wasn't sure whether he and Mira were compatible enough.

They were almost perfect opposites. She liked the romantic comedies; he liked the suspense thrillers. She liked art and all types of music; he preferred silence. Mira loved spending time doing nothing; he was shackled to his job. She was wealthy; he simply made enough to survive April 15. Mira was a beautiful socialite; Don stuck with his friends and partners for company. She found sports pointless; he could spend hours watching someone hit a small white ball that was thrown to them. Mira called it "abstract"; he called it futile.

"Stop it," Mira said with a small sigh. Don was shaken out of his trance and looked down at the "sleeping" woman. Her eyes were still closed and she hadn't moved a muscle, but she was somehow awake.

"What, babe?" he asked quietly, kissing her hair. Mira shifted, rubbing her eyes gently. She tilted her head up to look him in the eye.

"You tensed up suddenly, that's what. You only tense up when you're thinking about something you can't figure out," she replied honestly. He then remembered something else that made them different; she could remember every detail of a person and pick out their habits. Don struggled to remember his father's birthday, let alone someone's muscle movements in conjunction with their emotions and thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Mira, I am. I guess I—" he apologized. Mira cut him off.

"Stop," she commanded. "I don't care what you thought you were doing. Just stop doing it. Forget about the party. I know you're worried I don't feel like we're going to work, and you couldn't be more wrong. I know you think we aren't compatible. I know our interests don't match up. And frankly, I couldn't give a damn. For the first time in my life, I have found someone who doesn't know all the things I know. I found someone who teaches me things about parts of life that I don't already know. I found someone who I can talk to, make out with, and have sex with without worrying about whether they'll still be around the next morning. I love you, Don Eppes. I love you."

She touched his cheek gently and looked him directly in the eye. He returned her hard gaze and felt like drowning in her green orbs. Her statement shocked him, for several reasons, one was the fact that she had cursed, which she rarely did. Another was the fact that she had confessed to loving him, which didn't happen everyday. In fact, it was the very first time she ever said anything of the kind. She looked at him steadily, not expecting a reply or a counter-confession. He wasn't likely to do so for a while, and she knew it.

She slid out of the bed shortly afterwards. She picked up the robe that lay on the settee. She wrapped it around her body and headed into the bathroom. Don sighed and also got up, dressing slowly. Mira washed her face and put up her hair quickly. A few minutes later, she came out of the bathroom wearing white yoga pants and a crimson, long-sleeved, cotton shirt.

"Hey, Mira," Don murmured as he caught her arm gently. Mira slowed down and turned slightly. "Were you being serious, or were you simply trying to shut me up?" Mira tilted her head.

"Why would I joke around about something like that?" she asked in reply. Don shrugged.

"I don't know, I guess that was a stupid question." Mira tilted her head the other direction. She then started to button his shirt for him.

"No, it was a reasonable question for the situation. I was serious. I love you," she said optimistically. Don gave a small smile.

"I… I love you, too," he stammered oddly. Mira looked at him honestly. She could read his face like a book; he was truly sincere about what he said. She kissed him softly.

"I know," she whispered. "You know, I didn't think you'd reply in the same day, let alone within fifteen minutes." Don gave her a playful push. Mira laughed.

"That's not fair," he said, tickling her gently. Mira gave a small shriek and backed out of the room, defending herself from his relentless tickling. Nina, her housekeeper, saved her, fortunately.

"Mira, dear," Nina said kindly while giving Don a simple glare. "You have a delivery; a painting, I believe." Mira smiled and took Don's hand. She pulled him down the stairs, heading towards the front door where the deliveryman stood with her painting.

"Thanks, Nina. Don, remember that autistic teenager that I was telling you about?" she asked him after kissing her housekeeper on the cheek. Nina had been with Mira since she was a little girl; she practically raised the woman.

"Yeah, the one who sells his paintings to raise money for autistic awareness?" Mira nodded. She signed the piece of paper that the man offered and took the painting from him.

"Well, I asked him to paint something for me in particular. A woman with roses," she said to him as she unwrapped the painting. Don looked at the painting with shock. The woman with roses was she. "Don't look so surprised. If you recall what I told you, he doesn't use models. He paints people he's seen from memory."

Mira looked at the painting, analyzing every inch of it. Although the likeness was not exactly her, anyone who simply glanced at it would assume it was she. The roses were the perfect mixture of red and white. Yellow blooms decorated her hair. Mira caught her breath and smiled. Don watched her expression as he tied his four-in-hand tie.

"It's really amazing, Mira," he commented. Mira set the painting down and turned to him. She leaned against the railing and tilted her head as she gazed at him. After a while, Mira took Don's jacket from the coat rack and offered it to him.

"You're going to be late, if you stay longer. We don't want that, do we?" she said with charm. He took his jacket and picked up his keys from the table. He nuzzled her neck quickly before kissing her.

"No, we wouldn't. I'll see you a 5:30, okay?" Mira kissed his cheek tenderly.

"I'll be here, waiting," she replied. "I've got only a lecture on art. I'll be around." Don kissed her again and sped off to his SUV. Mira leaned against the front door-frame and watched him amorously. After a few minutes, she slipped back inside meeting Nina's watchful gaze.

"He's gone?" she asked stiffly. Mira looked at her with confusion. Nina returned her stare.

"Yes, he's left for work. Why?"

"I don't like him," Nina stated flatly. Mira sighed and shook her head as she walked up stairs. They had already argued about Don before.

"Nina, he's a sweet man. Just give him a chance," Mira coaxed as she reached her bedroom. Nina followed her instinctively. Nina was about 55 and looked about 45. Her hair tainted with pale streaks of gray. Her gray-blue eyes watched her charge with concern. Mira opened her closet doors and scanned the premises for something to wear.

"I just don't fancy his occupation," she said in her gentle London accent. Mira gave her a glance over her shoulder before proceeding to enter the closet. She picked up a pair of polka-dotted, slingback heels and continued to look for an outfit that went with the shoes. She picked out a white, A-line skirt and a black polka-dotted shirt.

"It really makes no difference, Nina. I love him," she murmured as she dressed. Nina sighed and backed away.

"I didn't think so, but I thought I'd try," Nina muttered. Mira smiled at her comment. She exited the closet and carried the shoes with her. She walked absentmindedly to the bathroom and applied her makeup. Nina reappeared at the bathroom door with Mira's sister on her tail.

"Mira, Ms. Marietta is here to see you," Nina said bitterly. Marietta glared at the older woman. Mira sighed and nodded, telling Nina she was permitted to leave.

"You're dating a FBI agent? Mira, you've lost your mind!" Marietta said sharply. Mira pinned up some of her hair on one side and looked at her sister evenly. Marietta, who in fact was Mira's cousin, was taller and thinner than Mira. She also looked more like an Italian, unlike Mira. Despite her gangly appearance, Marietta was known for her decent intentions but her execution was rated a negative fifteen on a scale of one to ten.

"And what makes you say that?" Mira asked calmly, passing her sister in order to pick up her shoes. Marietta threw reasons into the air, knowing that Mira was ignoring every word that drift in the air. When she noticed that the words had stopped, Mira finally took a stand.

"You know, Mari, for the past few years, I have tolerated your ridiculous attempts at matchmaking. To be honest, I'm sick of it. I have Don, now. He's all I need and want. I will not accept your stuck up, self-absorbed suitors any longer," Mira said icily. Marietta stared at the defiant young woman. Never in their relationship had Mira taken such a tone; to Marietta, it was rather frightening. Mira was always the tolerant, good-natured person. She noticed that Mira's patience was thinning after she had received a dismal peer-evaluation from some Physics professor at CalSci. The physics professor had commented that 'although the language itself is amazing, the professor offers little to the class as a whole'. Mira saw that deep down she had hurt Marietta. She sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry, Mari, really I am. It's just been a rather trying week," she murmured apologetically. "It didn't help that I happened to have dinner with that physics professor last night." Marietta blinked. She rushed to her sister and put an arm around her shoulder.

"Oh, Mira! I'm so sorry," Marietta gushed. "If I had known, I wouldn't have barged in here criticizing you!" Mira waved her comment off.

"I'm cutting it close," she mumbled as she checked her watch. Marietta walked down the stairs with her. "I have an art lecture in thirty minutes." Marietta grabbed her coat from the stair railing and followed her sister out into the car garage. Three vehicles were parked in the brightly lit parking area: the 2005 Ford Mustang, a sparkling Mercedes-Benz SL Class (which Marietta had bought Mira for her birthday last year), and a looming Ford Explorer that was given to her as another birthday present by her brother, Marco.

Mira stepped into the Explorer and gave Marietta a small wave. Marietta inclined her head and stepped back into the house where she stayed for another hour receiving juicy gossip from Luisa, the new house cleaner. Mira drove quietly towards the UCLA main campus in hopes of getting there before the usual crowd did. Her head filled with thoughts and questions. Why was she suddenly so impatient? Why did she constantly have a bad feeling about the coming morning? Mira sighed and turned into the teacher's parking lot. She put the small yellow identification card on the dash and turned off the car. She grabbed her handbag and exited the car. She extricated her black messenger bag from Don's duffle bags and case files then strode into Dodd Hall._ Let the games begin_, she thought tiredly to herself, _I should give Don an earlier curfew_.

Several boring hours later, Don was at his apartment. He was only there briefly; he was tired of being told that he was wearing the same thing that he wore to work yesterday, so, he was packing most of his good office apparel to take the Mira's. He picked up the garment bag and headed out the door just as his neighbor poked her head out her door.

"You haven't been home for the past few months, Don, dear," she said warmly with a hint of concern. Don gave her a polite, yet dismissive smile.

"I've been staying with someone," he replied, checking his watch and becoming alarmed when it read 5:04. "Good evening, Mrs. Henderson." He nodded his head politely as he left. Mrs. Henderson watched him curiously, as he bounded down the stairs and out the door. He threw his bag into the back of the SUV and drove off, heading towards Los Feliz.

He pulled into the circling drive and parked the car, grabbing his things and running into the house. It was 5:22. He skipped stairs as he rushed to the bedroom, throwing his things on the bed. He removed his gun holster and his wallet before he changed into a clean pair of pants and jacket. He didn't bother with a tie, knowing that he'd be the only one who wore one if he did bother. His rushed pace slowed as he relaxed and headed down the stairs in search of Mira. Along the way, he ran into Nina. They paused on the stairs; an uncomfortable silence fell for a few minutes before Nina spoke.

"Mira is waiting for you in the Green Parlor," she said stiffly. Don nodded his thanks and headed towards the back of the house. He passed a number of rooms, each decorated and painted differently. Each one, though, had several bookcases lining the walls. He looked for a room decorated in green and smiled when he spotted Mira in a room filled with green velvets and satins. He approached the room silently, not wanting to disturb her.

Mira sat in a large, antique armchair with a book occupying her thoughts. Her slender hand, her knuckles rest against her right temple, propped up her head. She was dressed in a white, chiffon dress that cut off at her knees. Satin ribbons wrapped themselves around her midsection. Her hair was up simply; numerous ringlets of chestnuts gathered on her head and pinned in place. A few managed to free themselves, tickling her face pleasantly as she moved. Around her wrist was a simple, silver, charm bracelet. There was only one charm on the thin band of silver, a scripted M.

Don leaned against the doorway, watching lovingly as she continued to be absorbed by the book that she had indulged in. It was a few minutes before Mira realized he was there. She glanced up from the book and seemed to be startled as her eyes met his. The book fell from her hand into her lap, and the fugitive ringlets bounced with surprise. Her green eyes widened for a moment then resumed their natural allure, half shaded by her eyelids in a constant gaze of kindness.

"I didn't see you," she murmured as she recollected herself and picked the book from her lap. Don shrugged and entered the room he had never seen before. Mira stood quietly and put the book back on the shelf nearest the gas fireplace.

"I didn't want to be seen, I guess. I liked watching you read," he replied, slipping a hand around her waist and pulling her towards him slowly. Mira blushed and gave him a quick kiss.

"I think we ought to be leaving," she whispered as they broke off. Don nodded and nudged her head softly. Mira gave him a bright smile and picked up her white handbag from the coffee table. He wove his fingers with hers and walked her to the front door, where they retrieved her white jacket. Don helped her slip into it and continued to walk her out the door and to his awaiting vehicle. Mira watched him, her smiled still on her face and illuminating the coming night. He opened the door for her and waited patiently as she slid into the seat. Not a word passed between them, only gentle smiles.

When she was inside the car, he slid into the driver's seat and started the car. While still in park, Don put his gun in the space that was between them and slipped his wallet into his coat pocket. He put the car into gear and drove off, one hand firmly on the wheel. The other was grasping Mira's hand gently, his thumb caressing her fingers. The tension and anxiousness of the day vanished as they drove into the evening.


	4. Drunks and Anniversaries

David and Terry stared as Don made his way through the crowd with a modern-day goddess clinging to his arm. They knew Don was attractive and charming, but he had to have done some serious bribing in order to catch such a fish. Don couldn't help but smile at their awed expressions.

"You look surprised," he said teasingly. Terry blinked dumbly. His date gazed at her calmly, a polite smile on her face. David did nothing but stare at her; her green eyes drew him in like a large piece of rich cheesecake.

"You said you were seeing someone, you failed to mention that you paid her," Terry retorted after she collected herself. Don's lover laughed then.

"He didn't pay me. If I did charge him, he wouldn't be able to afford it," she joked easily. _Even her voice seems surreal_, Terry thought. "I'm Mira Rosselli, his girlfriend," the beauty introduced, extending her hand casually. Terry took it, and returned her warm smile.

"Terry Lake, Don's partner." David extended his hand mutely. "And this is David Sinclair, also Don's partner," she added when she realize David wasn't about to say a thing. Mira flashed her gorgeous smile once again and turned to Don.

"Where'd Charlie get to?" she asked him quietly, glancing behind them. Don scanned the area quickly for his brother and spotted him standing near a framed picture on the opposite wall. He pointed him out to her and released her hand as she drifted gracefully through the crowd towards him.

"Damn, Don! You must have been really lucky to get her!" David breathed as she left. Don shrugged; he didn't think it was necessary to explain to them that their first date occurred due to Charlie's insistence.

"She seems charming," Terry complimented, knowing Don would rather be talking about Mira.

"I know; she does well in crowds, doesn't she?" Terry shook her head.

"That's not what I meant." Don looked at her curiously. "You seemed to have been glowing when she was here a few minutes ago. You're a great match, from what I've seen." Don shrugged again, hoping to conceal his faint blush. He didn't.

"I think you got him blushing, Terry," David comment teasingly. Don shot him a sarcastic look and watched as Mira conversed calmly with Charlie, who was standing comfortably against the wall.

Mira's gaze shifted from Charlie to the painting that hung before them. It was another bland landscape, as most of the other paintings were. The room was a large, rented ballroom space that was decorated lavishly. There was a staircase that led up to a surrounding balcony, where more bland paintings hung, hoping to be looked at and appreciated. If she were the decorator, the portraits of sleeping dogs and muted-red roses would be the first things to burn.

"You look amazing, by the way," Charlie said suddenly, removing her from her critical gaze. Mira blushed then shrugged.

"I feel a little over-dressed." His eyes darted around the room. He noticed that all the men, married, and unmarried were staring at her. Even though she wasn't facing them, they stared; apparently, her backside was alluring as her front.

"I don't think so. I think all these other people are underdressed; after all, it's also a retirement party," he replied, earning a surprised stare from the Italian woman.

"Really? Don didn't say anything about that!" she exclaimed, wondering why he hadn't told her before. Charlie glanced at her evenly.

"Do you really think he would have told you? He's known the director for a long time, I would think that he'd want to savor the last few weeks with him telling him what to do," he replied. Mira inclined her head regally.

"He still could've told me," she muttered. She looked around for Don, spotting him near the refreshment table. A man who intended to woo Mira obstructed her view, however. She glanced at him calmly, assessing him.

He was tall, as most of the men were, and light haired. He had dull brown eyes, but a warm smile that she knew had seduced many a woman. He carried himself arrogantly, and she assumed that he was used to getting whatever woman he deemed worthy of his attention. He was doomed to be disappointed somehow; Mira was that somehow.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he said huskily. Mira stifled a gag. Charlie watched interestedly in how Mira was going to handle the situation. She had clasped her hands behind her back and stood nonchalantly, looking over the crowd of people there to wish the director a fond farewell.

"How about we get to know each other better over some drinks?" the agent said, retaining his husky tone. Mira gave him a sideways glance. The stranger flashed his smile again and showed his daring when he began to stroke Mira's bare shoulder. "What's your name, lovely?"

"Mira." She made eye contact with Don, who watched with a frown. Terry and David, who were still with him, saw the action and were poised to move in. Don began to approach them, crossing the room with Terry and David following behind.

"Well, Mira, would you like to ditch this party and start one of our own?" the agent asked, leaning closer to her face. His breath was heavy with alcohol, which made Mira struggle not to hurl. She turned her head away, hoping he'd catch the hint that she wanted nothing to do with him. He ignored her sign and slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him quicker than she expected, planting a wet kiss on her lips. Mira groaned disgustedly and fought to get away.

His grip was strong, stronger than Mira could fight. She was desperate to get away so she slammed her heel on top of his foot. The man yelled in pain and threw her down harshly, causing her to slam against the marble floor and into the wall. By that time, the entire room was watching and Don was rushing to the scene. Terry and David grabbed the man by the arms and restrained him while the host and his wife appeared, anger written all over their faces. Don went immediately to Mira, who was wiping her mouth roughly with the back of her hand.

"Are you alright, Mira?" he asked quietly, helping her up dutifully. She nodded and let him look her over for himself.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'll just have to do some heavy-duty mouth washing later," she whispered. She glared at the man who dishonored her personal space.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Director Thomas asked furiously. The man shrugged, refusing to answer the question. "Agent Dobson, you had better come up with a good reason why you assaulted this young woman!" Agent Dobson looked at Mira wickedly.

"She wanted it, sir," he replied, a nasty grin forming on his lips. Mira tightened her grip on Don's arm, restraining herself from pouncing on him. "Ask her what happened. She didn't tell me not to do it." Director Thomas addressed Mira kindly.

"Ma'am, could you explain to us what happened?" he asked gently. Mira nodded; she was not going to let that drunken moron ruin her evening.

"He approached me, sir, and his intentions were written all over his face. I could tell that he wanted something I was not about to give him. He then began to stroke my shoulder. Considering his size, I refrained from stopping him. He then got closer and I could smell alcohol on his breath. I turned away and that's when he pulled me towards him and kissed me. I tried to get away, but he only held me tighter. That was when I stuck his foot with my heel." The director thanked her quietly and turned to Agent Dobson, fury contorting his face. Mrs. Thomas approached Mira and offered to show her where she could freshen up. Don watched as Mira and Mrs. Thomas walked in the direction of a powder room.

Men escorted Agent Dobson firmly from the room while Director Thomas apologized profusely to Don. "I'm terribly sorry about everything. Is she okay?" Director Thomas asked with concern. Don raised his hands to stop him and nodded.

"Mira's is fine, she tells me. She can take good care of herself." Director Thomas gave a relieved sigh and motioned the other party attendees back to give them room and a little more privacy than they had a few moments ago. Terry touched Don's arm and tossed her head in the direction of the balcony. He followed her quietly, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

"Is she okay?" Terry asked him, repeating the director. Don nodded.

"At least, she said she was," he replied. "I'll find out eventually." Terry gave him a comforting smile and leaned against the marble rail. Don noticed that something was bothering her; just from how she was acting. "Terry, what's wrong?" he asked firmly. Terry gave a dry laugh.

"I've been plucking up the courage to tell you this all night and the minute I get the chance I lose it all," she muttered. Whether Don was supposed to hear that comment, he didn't know; all he did know was that it was something very important.

"What?" he pried. Terry looked at him evenly. She took a deep breath.

"I've been transferred." Don stood there in complete shock. Why was she being transferred? She hadn't done anything to displease anyone in the upper offices. He took a step forward.

"Why are they transferring you? Where to?" he asked rapidly. Terry stopped him by raising her hand. She shook her head slowly in order for him to comprehend that she didn't want him talking for a moment.

"I applied for the transfer. I specifically asked to go back home, to Jersey, where my parents are," she replied smoothly, her previously plucked courage returning. "LA has been great, Don, but I want to be with my family. You shouldn't be the only one who gets to visit your family whenever you want." She gave him a small, reassuring smile. Don leaned against the rail near her, shock still freezing his thoughts.

"When did you find out?" he asked quietly, his eyes on the crowd within. Mira had exited the powder room and had spotted him on the balcony. She had let her hair down; she told him once that she couldn't stand it being up for a long period. She didn't approach them, knowing that they were immersed in a conversation that didn't involve her.

"A month ago. Tomorrow is my last day," she replied. Don didn't look at her, instead, he watched Mira politely turn down another agent as he approached her for a dance.

"It'll be strange without you," he confessed. Terry looked at him evenly. She was handling it better now that he was over the initial shock of it all.

"You'll be fine. You survived without me before, and now that you have Mira, you'll have every aspect of your life handled. I'll come back and visit every now and then, just to make sure you've still got Mira around," she told him firmly. He looked at her curiously. "She'll do you good, you know. If I find out, and trust me I will, that you've left her I come right back and murder you. She adores you, if you haven't realized it yet." Don gave her a smile.

"Thanks for the notice. I couldn't figure out why she was around so much. That makes much more sense now," he joked. Only God knows how, but Mira knew the talk had shifted to her and she appeared in front of them, her arms crossed over her chest.

"What makes sense?" she asked calmly. She had walked in on Don's comment, but didn't let him know that she had. Don gave her a small shrug and looked at Terry for permission.

"You can tell her," she told him. Mira looked at Don questioningly. He stood up and slipped a hand around her waist. Mira didn't move at all, refusing until she was told what was going on.

"Terry's been transferred to New Jersey. She leaves tomorrow," he explained quietly, hoping no one behind them heard. Terry laughed a little.

"Don't worry about them, they already know," she said. Don stared.

"I was the last to be told? What for?" he asked, anger and indignation creeping into his voice. Mira rolled her eyes.

"Technically, you were the second to last and what does it matter? At least she told you and didn't leave without ever saying goodbye," Mira reasoned, removing her from Don's grasp and moved toward Terry and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Are you going to be alright?" she asked kindly. Terry gave the lovely woman a smile.

"I'll be fine, thank you," she replied. "I'm a little concerned for you, if truth be told." Mira blinked with surprise. Don listened, knowing exactly what Terry was about to say.

"Really, what on earth for?" Mira asked curiously. For the first time, Don heard a faint British accent edging Mira's voice. He looked at her, his eyes wide for a moment. He had never heard it before, not until now. He knew she was Italian and came the US rather young, be she never said anything about have an accent.

"You really should be given the Medal of Honor for putting up with Don," she replied seriously. "I should know we dated at the academy. He can be a handful sometimes." Mira laughed.

"I know exactly what you mean!" she laughed. Don again picked up a faint accent. It wasn't until a few seconds later that he comprehended what she had said. He shot her a mildly angered look then softened.

"Do you have a British accent?" he asked suddenly. Mira blinked.

"You've worked with her for years and you don't know the answer to that?" she asked. Don shook his head in exasperation.

"No, no, not Terry, I meant you," he said. Mira blinked again.

"Me? Oh, not really, dear. My nannies were from London, so I might've picked it up from them, but I really shouldn't have one." She tossed some chestnut silk over her should and looked back inside. Charlie was falling asleep as he leaned against the wall with David following suit. Mira smiled to herself and looked at Don.

"I'm sure you want to stay, but I think we ought to get Charlie home. He's falling asleep standing up," she said gently. Terry and Don looked in Charlie's direction and snorted with laughter. Charlie's head bobbed dangerously, his eyes heavy with sleep. Don took Mira's hand and kissed her head.

"You're probably tired too," he murmured. Mira shrugged indifferently, but a persistent yawn proved otherwise. Terry stood and touched Mira's shoulder.

"You'll take care of him, right?" she asked quietly. Mira looked at her warmly and nodded.

"If I don't, who will? You should get going, I bet you have a lot to do tomorrow," she replied, kissing the air near Terry's cheek. Terry did the same, knowing that it was a polite gesture. She then gave Don a kiss on the cheek and said her final goodbye.

"I hope to see you sometime in the future," she said. "Perhaps at a certain couple's wedding?" Don caught the hint.

"Ha, ha. I hope you have a great trip. Keep yourself safe, okay?" he replied. Terry nodded and gave him a quick hug then retreated into the thickening crowd. Don and Mira headed towards Charlie and Don shook his shoulder gently.

"Hey, bud. C'mon, we're getting outta here," he said quietly. Charlie shook his head to wake himself and followed. Mira and Don chatted idly about nothing for a minute until Mira piped up about an art gala.

"I just remembered I have a gala showing tomorrow evening. I was hoping you'd come with me, Don," she said brightly. Don sighed. He had been to only one other gala and had nearly died of boredom.

"Really, is it a big event?" he asked cautiously. Mira giggled.

"Hey, chill out, okay? It's a children's gala. Children in the Los Angeles area submitted all the artwork on display. It'll be thousands of times more interesting than my usual events." Don shrugged in reply.

"I guess I can sacrifice my evening for you," he replied nonchalantly. Mira smiled at him brightly and kissed his cheek as they approached the car.

"I'm glad you find me worthy enough to spare time," she said in a mock-serious tone. Don smiled at her as he unlocked the doors. Mira waited for Charlie to pass her before she slipped into the passenger's seat. However, Charlie was so dead on his feet he barely trudged along. Mira, taking pity on the poor soul, helped him by opening his door and making sure, he put on his seatbelt. When Charlie was secure, she slid into her seat and fastened the safety belt as Don started the vehicle.

"… six months… tomorrow." Mira's statement barely made it over the melody the filled the room. Don looked up from the book that he had committed himself to and gazed at her. She was sitting at the grand piano that was located at the opposite end of the room. She was playing a nameless tune, but it soothed Don's mind as he read.

"What?" he asked her. Mira didn't look up from the piano keys. She had changed into a set of spring green pajamas after they had returned from dropping Charlie off after the party. Her hair was up in a loose ponytail and her face exhibited the total concentration that it took for her to reproduce something she had only heard earlier that afternoon.

"I said that we'd have been dating six months tomorrow," she repeated as she hit a sudden pianissimo.

Don blinked with surprise then realized that what she had just told him was the truth. Tomorrow _was_ their six months anniversary. Not only did he forget; he was entirely unprepared for it. Mira crescendo-ed emotionally as she reached the pinnacle on the piece. He set to book down on his chest and scratched his head thoughtfully. Mira glanced at him as she ended the piece magnificently.

"I don't expect anything, Don," she told him plainly. "I seriously don't. All I meant by it was that we've been dating for half a year and we barely noticed that much time had flown by." She rose from the piano bench and walked over to where he was lying.

Don had stretched himself out on a comfortable sofa in the main living room. He was still wearing what he had worn to the party, but had taken off the jacket and shoes. He raised his upper half and allowed Mira to sit down as he lowered the upper portion of his body onto her lap. She stroked his hair admiringly.

"Still, I feel as though we should do something," he confessed. Mira didn't reply as she marked his spot in the book with a scrap piece of paper that was lying on the end table and placed it on the stationary object.

"Don't do that," she murmured absently, "it's bad for the spine." Don took her hand from his hair and held it gently.

"Tomorrow is Saturday, right?" he asked her. Mira thought a moment then nodded in the affirmative. "Then after that gala of yours, we could spend some time in Sonoma. Maybe rent one of the houses there." The minute that suggestion left his mouth he knew he had no possible way of affording it. Not only were the houses in Sonoma insanely expensive, he wasn't even sure if he could get away from the office now that Terry wasn't going to be around to haul his shift.

"Don, we both know that's going to be almost impossible. You know I hate rubbing in the fact that I've been raised in the wealthy society, but if spending a weekend in Sonoma is really that important to you, we're staying at my house there. I will not have you put yourself out just to make me feel loved, because, Don, I already do," she said quietly. Don, knowing full well how much such a comment wounded his male pride, reluctantly complied.

"We had better get some sleep," she said pointedly. Don pretended to not hear her and acted as though he had already fallen asleep on her lap. Mira's legs were beginning to lose precious feeling, so, deciding that his comfort was no longer her priority, she stood up suddenly. This action made Don slide off the couch roughly and land on the carpeted floor with a loud _thud!_

Mira paused at the doorway and looked at him expectantly. Don lay on the floor for a moment, wondering what would have made the carpet where he was laying damp. "I wouldn't lay there much longer," she cautioned. Don turned his head in her direction.

"Why?" he asked. Mira fought back the urge to smile.

"My brother's eight month old daughter deposited her breakfast and lunch there earlier this afternoon." With that, she turned and left the area, heading upstairs. She started to laugh as she watched Don race upstairs to the bathroom, a look of disgust all over his face.

"It's your own fault!" she shouted after him as she continued to climb the stairs leisurely.


End file.
